Chosen
by Gwil
Summary: When Sam is abducted from her home in the middle of the night she must fight for her survival while Jack and the rest of SG1 struggle to find her before it's too late. Now Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Stargate SG-1, I'm not associated with those who do, and I'm making absolutely no money off of this.

**Rating:** T (for some violence and language, especially in later chapters)

**Spoilers:** Slight reference to Entity and one line quoted from that episode in a later chapter. Nothing major though.

_A/N: Special thanks to my beta Paxwolf. Also thanks to Jean for giving me a second opinion (even before I had the first one!) and for helping me out when I got stuck along the way. _

_This is my attempt at a story with an actual plot. Hope it manages to keep you entertained! Oh, but please don't expect the police/investigation stuff to be accurate because it most likely isn't. _

_Set sometime not too long after Entity. Please R&R! Thanks!

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**Chosen - Chapter 1**

Samantha Carter pushed her cart casually along the aisles of the grocery store, pausing occasionally to select an item to add to the basket. After spending most of the week off world, and pretty much all the rest of it working away in her lab at the base, Sam had arrived home to find her cupboards and refrigerator in a deplorable state of emptiness.

So, after watering and chatting with her plants, Sam had hopped in her car for a trip to the grocery store. And now here she was, standing in the dairy section and trying to decide how much milk she should buy when she was scheduled to go off world again in just four days. Not much, she decided after a moment. So she grabbed one of the smaller jugs and added it to her cart.

After selecting a carton of eggs and a few other extras, Sam made her way to the checkout line. As she stood in line waiting to pay, her eyes roved aimlessly over the various magazines and tabloids on display.

"Kansas mother gives birth to baby with gills and tentacles!" one headline screamed.

_Try having a Tok'ra symbiote in your head_, Sam thought wryly. _Or having your consciousness uploaded to a computer by an alien entity. _

If those tabloid reporters only knew what was really out there...

The line moved forward and Sam began shifting her groceries from her cart to the checkout counter. A few minutes later, she had paid and was heading outside to her car, all the while oblivious to the fact that she was being watched.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

The following night, Sam had just finished brushing her teeth and was about to crawl into bed when a small noise from another part of the house made her freeze. She strained her ears but heard nothing more. Quietly, she made her way to her bedroom doorway and peered out into the dark hallway. Everything was silent. She flicked on the hall light but saw nothing unusual. Just to make sure, she peered out into the main living area of her house. Still nothing.

Relaxing, she turned off the hall light again and went back into her bedroom. _Just your imagination_, she told herself as she climbed underneath the covers and switched off the bedside lamp. Her mind now at ease, she drifted quickly off to sleep.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Marvin Garrett stood watching his latest Chosen One sleep in the darkness. He liked doing that, watching them as they lay peacefully unaware before making his move. It was also his last way of making sure that they were right. The final step in determining whether or not their souls were worthy of the salvation he was about to bestow upon them.

He'd chosen this one because of her smile. That's how he always chose them. He'd seen this one smile at the cashier in the grocery store and had known right away that he wanted to add her soul to his collection. His collection of saved souls. So he'd followed her home and then waited. Watched and waited.

And now he was ready. Ready to take her with him, back to his workshop so he could begin the extraction, the salvation. And now he could. Having watched her sleep for several minutes now, he knew that she was pure. He could always tell by watching them sleep. It was like an instinct, something he could just sense. She was worthy.

Garrett's heart rate began to increase. Feeling the familiar, exhilarating rush of anticipation course through him, he took a step toward the bed.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Sam awoke with a start. Her eyes flew wide open and she knew immediately and with complete certainty that there was someone in the room with her. Before she had a chance to react, she felt the sharp prick of a needle in her arm while someone pushed down across her shoulders in an attempt to pin her to the bed.

Trying to kick herself free of her blankets, Sam thrashed out at her attacker. Her arm made contact with something solid and she heard a surprised grunt in the darkness. The hold on her loosened slightly, and Sam quickly rolled to the side and over the edge of the bed, taking a lamp with her as she crashed to the floor. Her heart pumping painfully in her chest, Sam tried to raise herself up on her hands and knees, but her limbs were slow and heavy, and her head was spinning viciously.

She was almost to her knees when something hard smashed down in the centre of her back, knocking her flat out onto the floor once again. With a yell of rage and fear she reached out and grabbed hold of a leg. She yanked hard at it, but as she was struck once more in the back, she let out a cry of pain and lost her grip.

Although the very Earth seemed to be spinning beneath her, Sam tried to roll over, but the next thing she knew, a needle was stuck sharply into her arm again. She continued to struggle, kicking out with her legs and trying to wrench herself free from her unknown captor's grasp, but it was only seconds before her body succumbed to the drugs now flowing through her bloodstream and she was swallowed up by nothingness.

_TBC…_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed chapter 1! Reviews make me a very happy camper and motivate me to write more so please keep them coming! _)

_Now for chapter 2...

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_Previously…_

_She continued to struggle, kicking out with her legs and trying to wrench herself free from her unknown captor's grasp, but it was only seconds before her body succumbed to the drugs now flowing through her bloodstream and she was swallowed up by nothingness.

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Chapter 2

Sam returned to consciousness slowly and unpleasantly. The first thing she became aware of was the nausea. The second was the thick and fuzzy throbbing sensation in her head. And the third was the aching pain in her back.

Bit by bit she came awake, and with her increasing awareness the memory of her terrifying midnight struggle returned. Her breath quickened with the fearful rush of memories and her eyes flew open. She was expecting to find her mysterious captor looming over her, but instead she found herself completely alone.

She was in a small room with concrete walls and a concrete floor. There was one door, shut tight. Set into a small alcove was the only item in the room -- a rather stained and lumpy mattress which Sam was currently lying on. A bank of spotlights was suspended from the ceiling, but they were currently turned off. The only source of light in the room at the moment was a shaft of greyish light sneaking through cracks in between the boards covering a small, paneless window located near the ceiling in one of the walls.

Sam was now acutely aware of her physical self. Beyond the strong sick feeling in her stomach and the pain in her head and back, she could now feel that her ankles were secured together and her arms bound behind her back with rope. Something, most likely duct tape, was plastered across her mouth.

Sam tried to move but was immediately hit with a strong wave of nausea. She fought hard to keep her stomach contents down, desperate to not vomit while her mouth was taped shut. She took deep, steadying breaths in and out through her nose and, after a few moments, the nausea subsided slightly.

Sam looked around the room as best she could without moving. Where the hell was she? And who had brought her here? And why?

Panic seized at her and Sam felt the threat of another wave of nausea. Taking several more deep breaths, she forced herself to try and calm down. She tried to concentrate only on assessing the situation, trying to make her military training override the fear and panic that were nearly overwhelming her.

After a few moments of inner struggle, she did manage to regain some control and calm herself down slightly. But even as she did so, she couldn't ignore the deep sense of horror radiating from her very core.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Jack was making his way through the corridors of the SGC, heading for the commissary for a mid-morning snack. Make that a mid-early-morning snack. Oh well. Nothing wrong with that. He'd already been up for a few hours and he deserved a snack. Didn't he?

He rounded a corner and almost ran smack into Daniel. Jack was quite glad that he didn't actually collide with him because the archeologist's arms were laden with papers and books. Heavy books. And Jack was quite sure that at least one of those books would have ended up on one or more of his toes.

"Daniel!" Jack greeted him exuberantly. "Great morning, isn't it?"

Daniel looked up from his papers, distracted. "Oh, hi, Jack."

"Had breakfast?" Jack inquired hopefully, thinking he might be able to get some company during his snack.

"Um, actually yes, I have," Daniel replied.

"Oh."

So much for company, Jack thought. Oh well. He still wanted his snack. He was about to make a getaway when Daniel stopped him.

"Ah, Jack, have you heard from Sam today?"

"No," Jack replied. "Should I have?"

"Well, it's just that she was supposed to meet me almost an hour ago to go over the translation of the symbols on the device we brought back from P2F 716, but she never showed up. When I couldn't find her anywhere on base I called security and apparently she never checked in this morning. I tried her home phone and her cell phone, but she didn't answer either of them."

"Maybe she had car trouble," Jack suggested.

"Maybe," Daniel said, but he didn't sound very convinced.

Just then, General Hammond came up behind Jack. "Good morning, Colonel. Dr. Jackson."

"Morning, sir," Jack replied.

"Is anything wrong?" General Hammond asked, noticing the rather concerned look on Daniel's face.

"I'm not entirely sure," Daniel admitted.

Jack jumped in to explain. "Carter hasn't arrived on base this morning and she's not answering either her cell phone or her home phone."

Now General Hammond was looking slightly concerned. "It's not like major Carter to be late, especially not without checking in."

"No, sir," Jack agreed. That was true. "I'm thinking maybe I should swing by her place, give her a wake-up call."

"I think that would be a good idea," General Hammond said with a nod. "Let me know when she's on base."

"Yes, sir. Will do," Jack assured him as the General nodded at them and walked away.

Jack exchanged a look with Daniel and then turned to the elevator. So help him, if Carter made him miss out on his snack because she was oversleeping, she was going to have to make it up to him.

With cake, maybe. Or ice cream.

Or both.

With that thought, he stepped onto the elevator.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Jack pulled his truck up to the curb in front of Sam's house and shut off the engine. The first thing he noticed was Sam's car parked in front of his own vehicle. The second thing he noticed was that the curtains were still drawn across her windows.

_Oversleeping_, he thought. No, it wasn't like Carter to oversleep, but all that overworking was bound to take its toll eventually.

He got out of his truck and made his way up the walk to the front porch. Reaching the front door, he knocked. Loudly.

He waited.

No response.

He knocked again.

"Carter!" he bellowed, loud enough to rouse half the neighbourhood. "Wake up!"

He tried to peer through the window into the front hall, but couldn't see anything. Another knock. "Carter!"

Puzzled, and slightly concerned now, Jack made his way around the side of the house to her backyard. He had only just rounded the back corner when he noticed something that immediately put him on full alert.

Carter's back door was ajar.

Advancing carefully now, Jack made his way up to the door and peered through the opening. There was no sign of anyone inside, Carter or otherwise. Cautiously, he pushed the door open further and stepped into the kitchen. He paused just inside, listening, but he still heard nothing. All was quiet and still.

"Carter? You in here?" Jack called.

He was met with silence.

Still cautious, Jack moved further into the house, sweeping each room quickly with his eyes, all senses on high alert. He had a bad feeling now. A very bad feeling.

As fear and tension began to build up inside of him, Jack entered the master bedroom. The sight that met him hit him like a hard blow to the stomach.

The room was a mess. The bedclothes were half on the floor, a small table was overturned, and books and the remnants of a shattered lamp scattered the floor.

And Sam was nowhere to be found.

Truly scared now, Jack quickly checked the ensuite bathroom, but still there was no Sam. With dread washing over him in a sickening wave, Jack pulled out his cell phone and made a call.

_TBC…_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Wow! You guys have been great with the reviews! Thanks so much! You guys make writing and posting fics so much fun! Hope you enjoy this next chapter!

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Chapter 3

The yellow police tape cordoning off Sam's house flickered in the gentle morning breeze with an eerie calmness. A calmness that was in stark contrast to the tumultuous emotions churning within Jack.

He was about to demand an update from one of the police detectives for about the fifth time when the sound of Daniel calling his name made him stop. He turned around to see Teal'c and Daniel crossing the street toward him. They made their way around one of the police cars and jogged over to where Jack stood keeping a critical eye on the police proceedings.

As Daniel reached Jack's side, he stopped and looked around at the police and forensics personnel coming and going from Sam's house with a stunned look on his face. "We got here as soon as we could. Do we know anything yet?"

"Nothing," Jack said bitterly. "Absolutely squat. They've got a forensic team in there now, but..." He clenched his jaw, unable to say anything more. He felt like kicking something. Anything.

"Did the scene inside give you any indication as to what may have occurred?" Teal'c asked.

Jack forced himself to remain calm. "It looks like whoever took her grabbed her while she was sleeping. The bedroom's a mess... whatever happened, she didn't go without a fight." He pushed away the sudden images of Sam struggling against an unknown captor as they came flooding unbidden into his mind.

"Was there..." Daniel was unable to finish voicing his question, but he didn't need to.

"No blood," Jack said flatly.

"And that's a good sign... right?" Daniel sounded uncertain.

Neither Jack nor Teal'c replied. There was a moment of grim silence before Daniel spoke again.

"Do you think this has something to do with Sam's work at the SGC? Maybe the NID or something...?"

"I don't know." Jack could feel his anger and fear focusing now, focusing into hard determination. "But I'm going to find out."

Jack turned in the direction of his truck, digging his keys out of his pocket. He couldn't stand around like this any longer. He had to _do _something.

"Jack? Where are you going?" Daniel called after him.

"Back to the base. To start my own investigation." He climbed into his truck and started the engine, and mere seconds later he was speeding away from Sam's house toward the SGC.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Strange, undefined images slipped across Sam's mind. Shadows and unseen horrors chasing her, haunting her. Liquid fear swept into her airway, flooding her lungs, suffocating her. She was sinking, falling...

With a sharp intake of breath, Sam awoke once more to find that she was still alone in her concrete prison. She lay perfectly still for a moment, concentrating on slowing her rapid breathing and heart rate. Crazy dreams. She could hardly believe she'd actually fallen asleep. No doubt whatever drug she'd been given was still wreaking havoc with her system. And there must have been a lot of it in her system to knock her out like that. She vaguely recalled a second needle prick. A double dose, maybe?

Pushing that thought aside, Sam struggled into a sitting position, her stiff and achy limbs protesting harshly. She still felt quite dizzy at the movement, but at least she was no longer on the verge of vomiting. Shivering against the damp chill of the basement, she drew her knees up to her chest in an attempt to retain as much body heat as possible.

She wiggled her ankles and wrists, trying to improve her circulation and test her bonds at the same time. But they were still as tight as ever and the rope bit painfully into her skin as she tried to work herself free.

Creak.

Sam froze. Her heart rate took off again as she realized that there was someone outside the door. She waited, her heart thumping and her eyes locked on the door handle, expecting it to turn. Instead, the room was suddenly flooded with light and Sam reflexively closed her eyes tightly, cringing against the unexpected brightness.

The spotlights had been turned on. But by whom?

Blinking, Sam tried to reopen her eyes to see what was happening. Her eyes were still adjusting to sudden light when she heard the unmistakable sound of the lock turning and the door handle began to move.

Momentarily paralyzed, Sam watched as the door unlatched and opened.

A man stepped into the room. A man who normally would have been utterly unremarkable, save for the fact that he was holding a knife. He closed the door behind him and stood looking down at Sam.

She glared back up at him, her eyes hard and fierce even though she was trembling with fear on the inside. She didn't know who this man was or what he wanted with her, and it was scaring the hell out of her.

The man smiled and Sam felt a shiver go down her spine.

"Sleepyhead's awake now," the man said, still smiling creepily. "Good."

He came closer to took hold of Sam's chin. Disgusted, she tried to turn away from his touch, but he tightened his grip and pressed the flat of his knife blade against her cheek, stilling her. She wanted to yell at him, to spit in his face, but with the damn tape over her mouth she could do nothing but make indistinct noises.

"Don't be frightened," the man crooned. He released her chin and began stroking her hair clumsily.

Again, Sam tried to move away, but the cold flat of the knife blade pressed warningly against her cheek and she stopped. She felt sick.

"I'm going to save your soul," he told her. "I'm going to capture it and add it to my collection. Then you'll be safe. Safe with the others."

Sam shuddered involuntarily. The guy was a psycho.

He stepped back, removing the knife blade from her cheek. "We will begin shortly."

Sam felt the fear coursing through her. Begin what?

"I'll be back soon."

As he turned and left the room, Sam found herself gasping against the panic that was threatening to overwhelm her.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

When she heard the door reopening some time later, Sam wondered if she was about to die. Or perhaps he had something worse in store for her. The thought made her dizzy and she silently cursed her helplessness. If her ankles and wrists weren't bound so tightly and if she weren't feeling so weak, she could've taken out her captor no problem. But as things were, she was at his mercy, and that filled her with a fierce anger.

She was momentarily puzzled when the man returned, not with his knife, but with a camera. He smiled at her again, that horrible smile that in any normal situation probably would seem like just an average, regular smile, but in this context was so creepy that it chilled Sam right through to her bones.

He raised the camera to his eye, pointing it at Sam and fiddling with the focus dial for a moment. Then he lowered the camera slightly to look at her.

"You'll be safe soon."

And then he began.

Flash.

Flash.

Flash.

He snapped off picture after picture, and with every click of the shutter, with every burst of white light from the flash, horror ripped through Sam, wiping all clear thought from her mind and leaving her only with terror and fear.

_TBC…_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: I continue to be wonderfully overwhelmed by all your great reviews! Thank you! And please keep them coming! I'm so happy people are enjoying this story. I'm even glad people are finding it creepy because I wasn't sure if I'd succeeded at that or not! (Sorry about any nightmares though!)_

_I've been asked if this story is going to be Sam/Jack. To answer that question, I'm going to borrow words from Sam and say, "Not exactly." It's definitely not a romance, let me put it that way. One of my goals with this story was to make it appeal both to people who like S/J stuff and those who aren't so keen on it. However, before all the readers in the former category run off and abandon me now, let me just say this -- if this story were to end in such a way that would allow for a sequel, that sequel would definitely contain some S/J comfort. Not romance, but comfort._

_I hope that you'll all stick with me and continue to enjoy what's left to come. I really appreciate everyone who has stayed with me so far! Thanks!_

_Now, enough of these author's notes. Let's get on with the story._ ; )

_**Spoilers:** Slight reference to Entity and one quote from that episode. Nothing major.

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_Previously…_

_He snapped off picture after picture, and with every click of the shutter, with every burst of white light from the flash, horror ripped through Sam, wiping all clear thought from her mind and leaving her only with terror and fear.

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Chapter 4

Jack stared at the piece of pie sitting on the plate before him. He'd added it to his tray automatically, but now it seemed oddly unappetizing to him. He couldn't enjoy things like pie with a member of his team missing. He couldn't enjoy anything at all to be honest.

He felt Teal'c's eyes on him from across the table.

"You are thinking of Major Carter," the Jaffa surmised.

"It's kinda hard to think about anything else right now." Jack stabbed at his pie with his fork.

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed. "The lack of progress with the investigation grows frustrating."

Jack looked up at his friend. "No obvious or even unobvious connections to her work here at the SGC, no leads at all -- yeah, you could say it's frustrating." He dropped his fork onto his plate and pushed his tray aside. "And meanwhile, Carter's out there somewhere..." He paused, forcing down the familiar welling of anger and frustration. "She needs our help, Teal'c."

Teal'c bowed his head slightly in agreement. "We will not give up until we find her, O'Neill," he assured Jack.

"No," Jack agreed with feeling. "We won't."

There was a moment of silence, broken only when a young airman approached the table.

"Colonel O'Neill, sir?"

Jack looked up at him. "Yes?"

"General Hammond would like to see you in his office, sir."

"Thank you, Airman," Jack dismissed him and the younger man left.

"Perhaps he has news of Major Carter," Teal'c speculated.

Jack pushed back his chair, getting to his feet. "Let's hope so." And leaving his pie abandoned and forgotten on the table, Jack set off for the General's office.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

The door to the General's office was open when Jack arrived, and Hammond beckoned him in immediately.

"Come on in, Colonel."

Jack entered the office. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

Hammond regarded him from across his desk, watching as he took a seat. "Yes. I just got off the phone with Detective Morrison -- he's the detective heading the investigation into Major Carter's disappearance."

"I remember," Jack said quickly. Morrison. That was the detective he'd pestered at Carter's house. Jack felt his stomach tighten. "Is there any news, sir?"

"They haven't located Major Carter."

Jack felt his brief spark of hope dwindle quickly away.

"However," Hammond continued, "they've been going through the various sets of fingerprints they lifted from Major Carter's house. They've eliminated all those belonging to Major Carter and friends such as yourself and the rest of SG-1."

"And?" Jack wasn't feeling very patient.

"And they've got one print they feel might well belong to Major Carter's abductor. The police are running it through the system as we speak," Hammond finished.

Jack turned this news over in his mind. "But even if the print does belong to her abductor, it'll only be helpful if the bastard is already in the system."

"That's true," General Hammond agreed. "But at this point, it's the best we've got to go on."

"Well, it's not enough." Jack got to his feet, unable to sit still any longer.

"Colonel."

Jack looked back at the General.

"You've done everything you can, son," Hammond said gently.

"Have I?" Jack's frustration was building dangerously again.

"I believe so, yes," Hammond said with assurance.

"The way I see it, nothing I do will be good enough unless and until it gets Major Carter back here safe and sound."

There was a pause. Just as Hammond seemed about to speak again, Jack jumped in first. "Permission to be dismissed, sir?" It came out rather abruptly, but Jack suddenly needed to be out of the office. Staying in one place too long allowed his broiling emotions to sneak too close to the surface.

General Hammond looked at him carefully, a hint of fatigue and sadness showing in his eyes. Jack didn't fail to notice this. He knew Carter's disappearance was weighing heavily upon the older man as well. It was weighing upon everyone who was close to her.

After a moment, the General sighed and nodded once. "Permission granted."

Jack gave a curt not of acknowledgment and strode quickly from the office.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

General Hammond watched Colonel O'Neill leave his office with a heavy heart. It was obvious that Major Carter's disappearance was eating away at the man, slowly but surely.

_I know how important Major Carter is to you._

That's what George had been about to say just before Jack had asked to be dismissed. But maybe there was no point in saying it. After all, they'd had that conversation before. And, in all likelihood, Jack would have responded in exactly the same way.

_"She's a very valuable member of my team, Sir."_

Yes, she was. But that wasn't quite what George had meant. Not that time, and it wouldn't have been what he'd meant if he'd said it again this time, either. But what more could they really say about it?

With a deep sigh, George turned back to his paperwork.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Sam was lying on her side again, aching and exhausted. The room's lights were off once more and she'd been in darkness for a long while, although grey daylight was now beginning to filter in through the cracks between the boards on the window.

She'd been alone again now for some time. Left alone to wonder what would happen next. She had nothing to do but lie rather painfully on her side, thinking. And her thoughts weren't very comforting at the moment.

What she wouldn't give to have her hands freed from behind her back. Her position was growing more uncomfortable with every passing hour. But more than anything, Sam just wanted to be free of this hell hole. Free from that psycho with his knife and his camera.

She didn't know how many rolls of film her captor had gone through during their photo session, but it had seemed to stretch on forever. Sam would never have known that a camera could have brought her so much horror. But maybe it wasn't so much the camera as the man behind it.

He had to be crazy. None of this made any sense. And that in itself was frightening to Sam.

At least being held captive by a Goa'uld would have been familiar. And maybe it wasn't a good thing that being a prisoner of a glowing-eyed alien with a snake in its head would be familiar, but at least it would have been a situation that she'd dealt with before. A situation that she'd dealt with and survived. This, on the other hand...

Even if her freak of a captor didn't decide to murder her in the next few hours, Sam knew she was still in trouble. She needed water. Badly. She knew she was becoming dehydrated, and her throat and mouth were uncomfortably dry. And her physical discomforts only served to lower her already sagging spirits.

Needing some source of comfort, something to hold onto, Sam allowed her thoughts to stray to her friends at the SGC. She pictured each of them in her mind, taking the time to see every one of them clearly. Daniel. Teal'c. Janet. General Hammond. The Colonel.

She closed her eyes against a sudden welling of desperate tears. Where they looking for her? Of course. They must be. They'd have known something was wrong when she didn't show up for work. But would they be able to find her? Did they have anything to go on? Hell, even she didn't know where she was. A concrete room. That was all. She might not even be in Colorado anymore, for all she knew. She had no idea how long she'd been unconscious before waking up in her chilly prison.

As she felt her fear beginning to overpower her once again, Sam took a deep breath and forced herself to focus. She couldn't rely on anyone else finding her in time. She needed to figure something out for herself.

Something.

_Anything_.

Struggling up off her aching shoulder, Sam sat up and looked around. Maybe there was something she could use to work through her bonds. Something sharp...

Nothing in the room fit that description. She glanced up at the boarded window, thinking momentarily about possible nails, but she quickly discarded that possibility. With her hands tied behind her back the way they were, there was no way she could reach the window.

Her eyes strayed to one of the corners of the wall that marked the transition from the alcove to the rest of the room. The corner wasn't exactly sharp, but the concrete looked rough. Very rough.

Her heart beating a little faster with new hope, Sam maneuvered her way off the mattress and over to the bumpy and irregular edge of the wall. She sat on the cold, concrete floor, her back to the wall. Pressing the ropes around her wrists up against the edge where the two walls met, she began moving her hands up and down, working the cords against the rough cement.

Before she'd even started, she knew it was going to be slow, hard work. But she had no other choice.

She just hoped she would have enough time.

_TBC…_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Here we are... chapter 5! Only two more chapters to go after this one. Again, thanks so much for all the reviews! I really do appreciate them!

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_Previously…_

_She began moving her hands up and down, working the cords against the rough cement. Before she'd even started, she knew it was going to be slow, hard work. But she had no other choice. She just hoped she would have enough time.

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Chapter 5

There was still no sign of Sam. Still no solid leads. Jack paced back and forth in his office, his frustration inching dangerously close to a critical level.

He had tried to dig up some clues, to find anything that might shed light on her disappearance, but he'd found nothing. Absolutely squat. Her abduction seemed to be totally unrelated to her work at the SGC. Couldn't be linked to NID or anything like that. Just a regular, run-of-the-mill psycho at work. Apparently.

Jack had even gone door to door in Sam's neighbourhood, questioning people. The police had already done that, but he'd had to try himself. But nobody had seen or heard anything. And he was back to square one. Again.

Infuriated by his inability to help her, Jack grabbed his almost-empty coffee mug off his desk and hurled it against the far wall of his office. With a crash, it smashed into several pieces and fell to the floor, leaving a dark trail of coffee down the wall.

"Feel better?"

Jack spun around to find Daniel standing in the doorway. The archeologist's gaze moved from the broken mug to Jack.

"No," Jack replied.

There was a moment of silence before Daniel spoke again. "We can't give up."

"We're not going to," Jack said, more fiercely than he'd intended.

"No," Daniel agreed quietly.

They lapsed into silence again. Jack looked over at Daniel, who was staring at the wet stream of coffee on the wall again, apparently lost in thought. He looked as though he hadn't slept in a while either. Jack felt his tense muscles relax slightly, realizing that the younger man was also feeling the strain of Sam's disappearance. He suddenly felt the need to try and reassure his friend.

"We're going to find her, Daniel."

Daniel looked back at him. "Yeah," he said. "I know." But his voice didn't hold much conviction.

"Yeah," Jack echoed quietly, but he wasn't sure who he was trying to convince more, Daniel or himself.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Marvin Garret carefully examined each photograph as he pinned them on the line to dry.

Wrong. They were all wrong.

Hot frustration flaring within him, Garret ripped one of the pictures off the line and tore it in half, crumpling the two pieces in his fists before letting them fall to the floor. The worst of his anger released, Garret left his darkroom and went down the hall to the spare bedroom. This room always calmed him. It was here that he kept his collection, the perfect pictures that captured the souls of his Chosen Ones.

He moved slowly along the row of photographs on the wall, savouring each image, each captured soul. And for each one he recalled in vivid detail the key moments -- the moment when he finally captured their pure souls, ensuring them eternal preservation, and the moment when he extinguished the life force of each body, each shell.

Garret took his time with his recollection, each memory an intimate encounter. He had saved these souls, preserved them. And now he was going to save another one. He would succeed with his latest Chosen One. Soon.

Finished with his ritual, Garret turned and left the room, leaving behind the gruesome photographic display of his past victims, each one captured in a pose of complete and utter horror.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Sam felt as though she'd been working her bonds up and down against the concrete for hours. Although in reality, she had no idea how much time had really passed, but she knew it probably hadn't been as long as it seemed. She wasn't sure that she was getting anywhere, but she kept trying, because that was the only thing she _could _do. And she'd be damned if she was going to give up.

So, taking only short rests now and then, she continued to work away. Her hands and wrists were recovered in nicks and scratches and her arms were burning with exhaustion when the bank of overhead lights switched on, warning Sam of her captor's approach.

Thinking it wouldn't be wise to have him catch her at what she was doing, Sam quickly shifted herself back over to the mattress. She had just settled back onto it when the door opened, and she watched tensely as her abductor came into the room. He didn't have his camera with him this time, but he had his knife, and he seemed agitated.

He came over to where Sam sat on the mattress. She tried to move away as he drew near, but he reached out and wrenched the tape away from her mouth.

Sam gasped, partly from the pain and partly from the sudden ability to draw oxygen in deeply through her mouth.

"It didn't work."

It took a moment for Sam to realize that he was talking. She forced her mind to focus.

"We'll have to try again. _You _have to try harder."

"Try what? What do you want?" Her voice was hoarse and raspy, and she barely recognized it as her own.

"I already told you." Now he was sounding impatient as well as agitated. "I want your soul."

She almost told him he was crazy, but managed to bite her tongue.

"We'll have to try again," he said. "I'll get my camera."

Sam's stomach turned at the thought of another photo session.

"You," he pointed at her, "get ready."

He turned to leave.

"Wait!" Sam rasped desperately.

He turned back to look at her.

"Please, I need some water. And a washroom."

He just stared at her for a moment, and Sam was afraid he was going to ignore her request. She needed to get herself out of this room, to somehow increase her chances of escaping. And she really did need water.

As her captor came back toward her with his knife, Sam found she was holding her breath. He stood over her for a second, still staring down at her, and Sam tensed, fearing what he was about to do next. But then he bent over and sawed through the ropes binding her ankles with his knife.

As the ropes fell away onto the mattress, he moved his knife up to her throat. Then he grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet. He turned her around so her back was to him and she felt him freeze. Sam's breath caught in her throat as she realized that he'd noticed her tampering with the ropes around her wrists.

The next thing she knew, he had shoved her hard up against the wall, her right cheekbone smashing into the concrete as she tried to avert her face from the impact. He grabbed a handful of her hair and put his face close to hers, his eyes bugging out grotesquely.

"You ungrateful bitch!" he growled at her. "I'm trying to help you, to _save _you, and all you can do is try to get away?"

He pushed her harder against the cement wall and she winced against the renewed pain. "Would you rather I kill you right now?" His breath was hot against her ear, making her stomach clench with disgust. "Because I could. And then you'd be lost forever. Do you want to be lost forever?"

"No." The word emerged from Sam's dry throat as barely a whisper. "No, I'm sorry." It took everything she had to make herself say those words. She wanted to curse at him, to spit in his face, but she knew if she did, it could be the last thing she ever did.

At the moment she needed to keep herself alive, and if that meant saying what he wanted to hear, that's what she would do. "I didn't understand," she continued, forcing her hoarse voice to an audible level. "I didn't understand that you're trying to help me."

She felt his grip on her loosen, just slightly, but it encouraged her to press on. "Please... I just need to use the washroom and have a drink. I won't try to escape again."

"You shouldn't _want _to escape."

"I don't," Sam tried to assure him. "Not anymore."

She waited, hardly breathing, praying that he would believe her. Seconds ticked by, slowly and painfully, before he finally pulled her away from the wall. Sam exhaled with relief, although she knew she was far from out of danger.

"The bathroom's upstairs," he told her, jerking her toward the door.

Sam felt her pulse quicken as the first part of her plan fell into place. She was getting out of the prison room. So far so good. But she knew she would have to be very careful. The slightest wrong move on her part could lead to a failed escape. And a failed escape would most likely lead to her death.

Acutely aware of the knife at the side of her neck, Sam moved carefully as her captor pushed her along ahead of him. Her legs were stiff and cramped, her whole body weak and shaky, and it took a lot of effort to keep herself from stumbling.

As they exited the room where Sam had been held ever since she regained consciousness, they emerged into a short, dimly lit hallway. Sam's captor steered her roughly to a flight of wooden steps and prodded her to start climbing them. At the top, he reached around her and opened the door that was blocking their way.

The door swung open and Sam's captor pushed her through into a small kitchen. They were only in the room for a few seconds, but Sam made the most of the time, her eyes scanning swiftly over everything in sight. She was familiarizing herself with the surroundings -- locating the nearest escape route and searching for a telephone and possible weapons. She saw no phone but there was a door leading outside.

Sam was pushed across a narrow hallway and into a small bathroom. She felt her captor cutting at the ropes around her wrists. As her hands came free, he shoved her further into the washroom.

"Two minutes," he said. Then the door shut behind her.

Sam rubbed at her sore wrists, looking around the bathroom as she did so. There was a window, but it was tiny. There was no way she could get through. And there was nothing lying around that she could use as a weapon. Not even a towel rack to pull off the wall.

Mindful of the seconds ticking away, Sam quickly made use of the toilet. Then she washed her hands and splashed water over her face, trying to make herself as alert as possible. She cupped her hands and sipped greedily at the water pooling in them. The cool liquid felt good on her dry throat, but after a few sips she forced herself to stop. She knew she shouldn't drink too much too fast, and her time was rapidly running out.

She turned off the tap and took a deep breath. This was it. She was either going to escape or die here. The next few minutes would tell. She tapped on the door and stepped back as it opened toward her. Her heart was thudding rapidly as she faced her captor.

It was now or never.

"Turn around," the man ordered, knife still in hand.

She started to obey, but then suddenly swung around the other way, driving her elbow hard into his solar plexus. With a grunt, he doubled up, momentarily stunned, and Sam took the opportunity to drive her fist into his face. He stumbled back a couple of steps, but then charged at her with his knife ready.

Sam dodged his wild slash and managed to land another punch, but he was still coming at her and her legs were shaking dangerously beneath her. He slashed at her again, and this time the blade caught her on her left forearm. Gritting her teeth against the pain and her increasing exhaustion, Sam turned and kicked out at him, her foot making contact with the middle of his abdomen.

He went flying backward, and as Sam watched it almost seemed like he was falling in slow motion. The knife flew out of his hand and through the open basement door just as the back of his head hit the edge of the kitchen counter with a sickening thud. As the knife clattered down onto the wooden basement steps, Sam's captor crumpled to the kitchen floor, slumped on his side against the low cupboards.

Sam stood frozen for a moment, waiting for him to move again, ready to attack again if she had to. But several seconds passed, and he didn't stir. She took a step toward him. Still, he didn't move. Blood was beginning to pool on the linoleum behind his head.

She needed to call for help. Sam looked wildly around the room for a telephone, but still couldn't locate one. She needed to get out of there.

With one last, fearful glance at her unmoving captor, Sam wrenched open the back door and fled from the house. Once outside, she stopped and looked around. Oh God. Where the hell was she? There were no other houses in sight. Only forest.

She was in the middle of nowhere.

Not knowing what else to do, she began to run, pebbles and twigs painfully piercing the skin of her bare feet. There was a dirt driveway leading off through the trees, but she was scared of staying out in the open, scared that her captor would come after her.

Was he dead? She didn't know. She should have checked, but her fear had taken over, driving her from the house. Her mind was still barely working. It was still screaming at her to run. Just run.

She plunged into the trees, her wild fear the only thing keeping her going through the pain ripping at her feet, through her weakness and exhaustion. She needed to stay out of sight. Stay out of sight, but follow the direction of the driveway. That should take her to the highway. From there she could get help.

Help.

Run.

Those were the two words that kept repeating in her head, that kept her going. Branches scratched at her face and arms, and her damaged feet stumbled on the uneven ground, but she kept going. She only paused occasionally and for just a few seconds at a time, the small part of her mind that was still working rationally forcing her to leave something of a trail in her wake. A trail of signs that would only mean something to a select few people on the planet.

She was afraid that in her desperate, fear-driven state she might get turned around in the forest. Lost. And she'd be damned if she was going to escape from her abductor just to get herself lost in the forest. But even so, it was hard to keep her mind clear enough to carry out that simple task. Every fibre of her being just wanted to keep running, not stop, just keep running. And except for her few brief pauses, that's what she did.

She kept this up for several minutes. Several pain and fear-hazed minutes. And then she noticed a change in the light up ahead. She was nearing a break in the trees.

The highway.

She was almost to the highway. She stumbled and fell hard to her hands and knees. She looked up.

_Almost there. _

The words throbbed in her head. She tried willing herself to get up again. To push through the weakness and exhaustion. To keep going. But as she began to climb shakily to her feet, the world began to spin around her and a roaring sound filled her ears.

_Almost there._

And with that thought, Sam blacked out.

_TBC…_


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: The penultimate chapter already! Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read this story, and especially to those who have sent me reviews. Reviews make my world go 'round! I'm always so happy to see them in my mailbox! The final chapter will probably be up on Monday or Tuesday. But for now, I hope you enjoy this one!

* * *

_

_Previously…_

_As she began to climb shakily to her feet, the world began to spin around her and a roaring sound filled her ears._

_Almost there._

_And with that thought, Sam blacked out.

* * *

_

Chapter 6

"Jack!"

Jack turned to see Daniel running toward him like he had a hundred Jaffa on his ass. Only they were in the corridors of the SGC, not off-world somewhere, so Jack figured it probably wasn't Jaffa that had him running like that. It was probably...

_Carter._

Jack's stomach clenched as Daniel reached his side, out of breath.

"Daniel?"

"I just talked to General Hammond. He got a call from Detective Morrison, the one who --"

"I know who he is," Jack cut him off, rather more sharply that he meant to. "What did he say?"

Daniel gulped in some oxygen and began speaking again in a rush. "That fingerprint that they found -- they got a match. Some guy that got charged with assault and battery a few years back. His name's Marvin Garrett. The police have got an address for him and they've gone to check out his place."

In one swift movement, Jack grabbed Daniel's arm, hauled him across the corridor, and shoved him onto the elevator ahead of him. Jack punched the desired button with more force than was really necessary and turned to face Daniel.

"Tell me you've got the address."

"Well, actually, the police weren't being very forthcoming..."

"Daniel..." Jack growled at him impatiently.

"But General Hammond pulled some strings," Daniel explained, speaking even faster now. "It's a place in the mountains, not too far from here."

"But no word on Carter yet?"

"No, not yet."

Jack glared at the elevator display. Damn it, couldn't this thing go any faster? Jack punched the floor button again, his anxiety shooting skyward. They'd already lost so much time, not knowing where to look for her. Now Jack just had to hope that they weren't too late.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Jack was only vaguely aware of Daniel gripping the armrest on the passenger door of his truck as he sped along the winding mountain road. His mind was focused on driving. And on Carter. On getting to Carter.

Any other time it would have been easy to miss the turnoff onto the driveway leading to the house that Jack and Daniel were looking for. Especially at the speed Jack was driving at. But today the spot was boldly marked by a parked police cruiser.

Braking quickly, Jack pulled his truck onto the road's shoulder and shut off the engine. In an instant, he was out of the vehicle and heading for the driveway, Daniel close behind. A police officer met them at the foot of the drive and stood, blocking their path.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen, you can't go any further."

Jack fished out his i.d. "Colonel Jack O'Neill, U.S. Air Force."

The officer glanced at Jack's identification. "I still can't let you go any further, sir."

What little patience Jack had left was ready to crack. "The missing woman -- Major Samantha Carter -- happens to be my second in command and my friend. I want to know what's going on."

"I'm sorry, sir." The officer stood firm.

It was probably a very good thing that Daniel stepped in then, because Jack wasn't sure what he would have done next. He only knew that it likely would have got him in trouble with General Hammond and a few other people as well.

"Is Detective Morrison around?" Daniel asked.

"He's up at the house," the officer replied, still keeping his eyes on Jack. "I can see if he's able to come talk to you."

"Thank you," Daniel said quickly. "We'd appreciate that."

Still watching Jack out of the corner of his eye, the officer retreated a few paces, speaking into his radio in low tones. After a moment, he turned back to Jack and Daniel.

"Detective Morrison will be along in a few minutes," he informed them.

"Thank you," Daniel replied.

Jack just started pacing back and forth at the end of the driveway, his anxiety and tension making him unable to stay still any longer. The minutes seemed more like hours to Jack, but eventually an unmarked police car came slowly down the bumpy drive and pulled to a stop. Jack halted his pacing and Daniel came over and joined him at his side as they watched Detective Morrison climb out of the vehicle. The Detective nodded at the other officer and then turned his attention to Jack and Daniel.

"Colonel O'Neill, Dr. Jackson," he greeted. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

"What's going on up there, Detective?" Jack got quickly to the point. "Have you found Major Carter?"

"She's not inside the house," Detective Morrison replied, and Jack felt his heart sink. "But we believe she was until recently."

"What do you mean?" Daniel asked.

"At this point, we're not exactly sure what may have happened. It's possible that Major Carter escaped, or Garrett may have moved her to another location."

"But she was here?" Daniel tried to clarify. "You've got the right place, the right guy?"

"Oh, yeah," the detective answered. "She was definitely here. Garrett only has one vehicle registered in his name and it's still parked up by the house."

Jack followed his line of thought. "So you think he and Major Carter could still be nearby."

Morrison nodded. "It's very possible. We're just about to start a search of the surrounding area. If he's got Major Carter out in the woods... well, time is of the essence."

Jack quickly pushed away the thoughts that came with the detective's words. They couldn't be too late. He couldn't even consider the possibility. "The Air Force can help with the search," he managed to say.

Detective Morrison was about to respond when a rustle of bushes caught the attention of everyone present. A short way down the highway, a man emerged from the forest. He stopped short at the sight of the other men, looking startled, then he turned abruptly and disappeared back into the woods at a run.

"Shit! That's him!" the detective exclaimed, grabbing his radio.

Jack didn't even pause to think. He took off into the forest after Garrett, crashing through the undergrowth, his hand reaching under his jacket for his gun. He heard Detective Morrison shouting after him, but he plunged ahead, ignoring him.

Jack raced over the uneven terrain, adrenaline pumping through his body and propelling him forward. He was steadily gaining on his quarry, who was no match for an Air Force colonel highly practiced at covering all sorts of terrain at high speed. As Garrett started down an incline, Jack was right on his tail.

Closer...

Closer...

He was almost within reach...

Now!

Jack leapt through the air and grabbed Garrett in a full out tackle. They both went hurtling to the forest floor, tumbling down the hill and crashing through the undergrowth as they went. Reaching level ground, Jack used his momentum to roll up onto his knees, aiming his gun at Garrett as he did so. But Garrett also had a gun out now, and it was pointed right at Jack.

Spitting out a mouthful of dirt and dried leaves, Garrett wiped his sleeve across his face. Keeping their weapons trained on each other,Jack and Garrett both climbed to their feet. Jack's eyes were locked on the man before him, hatred churning in his chest.

"Where is she?" Jack's voice came out hard and dangerous. Dark, cold fury was practically emanating from his tense body.

"If you shoot me, you'll never find out." Garrett's voice was calm, but his breathing was rapid and shallow, and small beads of perspiration shone on his forehead.

Jack narrowed his eyes. "Only if I shoot to kill."

Garrett swallowed nervously as that statement sunk in, and Jack felt a grim sense of satisfaction at the man's reaction. The sound of crashing bushes could be heard in the distance, signaling the approach of others, but still the two men kept their eyes fixed on each other.

"I can start with a kneecap or two." Jack took a step forward. "Then maybe I'll move on to your fingers."

The gun in Garrett's hand was beginning to waver slightly. Jack took another step toward him. Part of him was itching to get his hands on this man, to do everything he was threatening and worse. But with Garrett holding a gun as well, Jack knew he had to take this one step at a time.

He was about to take another step toward Garrett when there was a sudden rustle of bushes off to his right.

"Jack!"

Daniel.

Garrett spun around in the direction of Daniel's voice and as Jack saw his finger begin to squeeze the trigger of his gun, he reacted instantly.

Crack!

Both guns exploded simultaneously. Arriving behind Daniel right at that moment, Detective Morrison tackled him to the ground just as Garrett's bullet whizzed over their heads. At the same time, Jack's bullet ripped into Garrett's shoulder, throwing him backward. But even as he hit the ground, Garrett was aiming his gun again. At Jack.

Before Jack or Garrett could fire their weapons again, another bullet slammed into Garrett's chest, sending him back to the forest floor, his gun slipping from his now limp grasp. Jack looked to his right. Daniel was still on the ground, and Detective Morrison was just lowering his freshly fired weapon. He and Jack exchanged a look and then both approached Garrett, quickly but cautiously.

Detective Morrison took possession of Garrett's gun and began searching him for other weapons while Jack checked for a pulse. Just as Jack placed his fingers on the man's neck, Garrett opened his eyes. Jack felt a surge of hot anger and hatred rushed through him. Grabbing Garrett's collar, he shook him roughly.

"Where's Major Carter?"

Although he was fading quickly, Garrett managed to focus his eyes on Jack. "Gone," he whispered.

Jack was about to shake him again, harder, when Detective Morrison put out a hand to stop him. "Colonel!"

Garrett coughed and a line of blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth and down his chin. Then, with a sigh, his last breath left his body and his eyes closed. Jack released his hold on Garrett's collar, letting the lifeless body slump back onto the forest floor.

Jack climbed to his feet as several other police officers arrived on the scene. He backed away from the body, letting the police go about their business. He didn't have another thought to spare for Garrett. The only thing that mattered now was finding Carter.

"Jack?"

Daniel was beside him now and Jack took in the sight of him properly now for the first time since he had arrived on the scene. "You all right?" he asked the archeologist.

"Fine," Daniel replied. "Did he say where Sam is?"

"No." Holstering his gun, Jack was already setting off through the forest, Daniel rushing to keep up with him.

"So what now?"

"We find her ourselves." And that really was the only thought on Jack's mind. Garrett, the police, and everything else faded into the background as he became completely focused on that one objective -- finding Carter.

He started by heading due west, aiming for where he assumed Garrett's house must be, and all the while keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of his 2IC. He and Daniel emerged from the trees a few minutes later to find themselves standing at the edge of a large clearing, a small and rather decrepit two-story house set in the middle of the open area. The dirt driveway led off through the trees to the north. There were police and forensic personnel over by the house, but Jack barely noticed them.

For a moment, he just stood staring at the house, knowing that Carter had been a prisoner there and both wanting and not wanting to know what Garrett had done to her. He felt his hands clench into fists at his sides. The sick bastard had got off too easy, dying as quickly as he had. Way too easy.

Tearing his gaze away from Garrett's house, Jack began searching the tree line. He had to hope that Garrett had been out in the woods looking for Carter. Looking for her because she'd escaped. He couldn't let himself even consider any other possibilities. Because the other possibilities were too grim. They were unacceptable.

With Daniel still at his side, Jack switched himself into full search mode. His senses sharpened, taking in every detail, processing the sensory data. The tang of rotting leaves. The hinting scent of pine needles. The play of light and shadows. The undisturbed litter of twigs and leaves amidst the undergrowth.

She hadn't been here.

Jack moved on, searching continuously, Daniel following silently in his wake.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

_Something_.

Jack stopped and pushed aside some foliage for a closer look. Boot prints. Someone had entered the woods here. But not Carter. The prints were too big to be hers. Maybe Garrett's, or a police officer's, but it really didn't matter. They weren't Carter's.

Jack moved on. Searching, searching.

He stopped again.

A footprint.

A single, partial footprint. Not a boot print. This depression was made by a bare foot. And judging by the size, it could very well have been made by Carter. Jack touched the edge of the impression delicately with one finger.

Barefoot. That would make sense. If Garrett had grabbed her from her bed in the middle of the night, she would have been barefoot.

Jack looked at Daniel. "She's out here."

Daniel peered down at the footprint. "Did she leave a trail?"

"Let's find out."

Jack pushed his way through the undergrowth, moving further into the forest. His senses were still sharp, still going over every detail in the hope of finding something more to lead him to Carter.

"We could sure use T's help right about now," he commented, thinking about the Jaffa's superior tracking skills.

"I could call the base, get him up here," Daniel suggested as he followed Jack through the trees.

Jack's eyes continued to scan the forest floor. "Yeah, maybe that would be a

good --" He cut himself off and abruptly stopped walking, his eyes fixed on something on the ground a short distance away. New hope quickened his pulse.

"What?" Daniel asked, obviously not seeing what Jack was seeing.

Jack pushed his way through a large clump of ferns and crouched down. He heard Daniel come up to stand behind him.

"Take a look at this." Jack pointed to the ground in front of him where two sticks lay on the dirt, forming a point. At the apex was a round stone.

Daniel raised his eyebrows. "Earth."

Jack straightened up so he was standing next to Daniel. "Yep." His eyes were already traveling in the direction indicated by the symbol's apex. He felt a hint of a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. "Come on."

He set off through the trees, Daniel following close behind. A few minutes later, they came across another stick and stone Earth symbol. Then another. And with each one they found, Jack felt his blood pump harder, felt his hope and anticipation growing.

At some point, they started calling out for her. Their shouts of "Carter!" and "Sam!" ringing out through the forest. Jack was moving quickly, but not too quickly. He didn't want to miss any of her signs. He didn't want to lose her trail. Her trail or precious time.

They clambered up a small rise. And that's when Jack saw it. A flash of pale blue amidst the greens and browns of the forest. Swatting branches and bushes out of his way, Jack hurried forward. And as he pushed one last bush aside, there she was.

The pale blue Jack had seen was her tank top. A tank top and flannel pajama pants. That was all she was wearing. She was lying flat out on her front, one cheek pressed to the ground, eyes closed. And she wasn't moving.

His heart thumping like crazy now, Jack dropped to his knees at her side.

"Carter?" He put a hand to her shoulder and felt relief soar through him as she moved under his touch, just slightly.

Thank God.

She was alive.

And she was trying to turn over. Carefully, Jack helped to ease her over onto her back, shouting to Daniel over his shoulder as he did so. "Daniel, get some help down here!"

He heard Daniel crashing off through the bushes as Sam looked up at him, her eyes clouded with confusion.

"Sir?" Her lips formed the word, but no real sound emerged. But it was enough for Jack.

"Yeah, it's me," he assured her. He shrugged out of his jacket and spread it over her. "You're gonna be fine, Carter. Just hang in there."

She struggled into a sitting position, one hand holding Jack's jacket to keep it from sliding down around her waist.

"Easy there." Jack rested a hand on her shoulder to keep her from moving any further.

She remained where she was, but she seemed tense. "The man..."

There still wasn't much sound behind her voice, but Jack was able to make out what she was saying. And he understood.

"He's dead, Sam."

Her eyes met his for a moment and Jack wasn't sure what he was seeing in them. Pain? Relief? Probably both. He gave her shoulder what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze.

"It's over."

Her eyes closed, and this time her relief was unmistakable. And as Jack gave her shoulder another squeeze, he repeated his words silently to himself.

_It's over._

_TBC…_


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Okay, folks, this is it... the final chapter! As always, thanks so much for all the reviews! Hope you enjoy this installment. Please R&R!

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Chapter 7 _

The ambulance ride to the base passed in a haze for Sam. She was conscious but exhausted, her body completely worn out from stress and lack of food and water. Her eyes kept closing on her, but as she was wheeled through the corridors of the SGC, she caught a glimpse of Daniel and Colonel O'Neill following close behind the stretcher and the sight of them still sticking close to her was very reassuring.

She was rolled into the infirmary and soon became aware of Janet talking to her. She saw the relieved smile on the doctor's face, but didn't have the energy to process her words. But it didn't matter. The sound of her friend's voice was enough at the moment. She knew she was in good hands.

Even in her current foggy state, Sam was fairly certain that she'd never been so relieved to be in the infirmary. It wasn't exactly a place that one tended to visit for good reasons. But it was a familiar place. A safe place. And at the moment, safety and familiarity were the two things that Sam craved the most.

By the time Dr. Frasier had checked her over and treated her injuries, Sam was seriously beginning to lose her battle against her exhaustion. It probably didn't help that Janet had given her a dose of painkillers upon her arrival at the infirmary. But even without the drugs, Sam's body was desperately clamoring for her to sleep. The problem was, she didn't want to sleep. Not now.

She wasn't aware of too much at the moment, other than the only slightly dulled throbbing of her battered feet and slashed arm, but she did know that at some point her three teammates had gathered around her bed to keep watch over her. Her eyes didn't seem capable of opening fully, but even halfway was enough to keep her friends in sight. To keep herself assured that they were there with her.

Every so often she heard one of their voices, speaking quietly. Sometimes they were talking to her, sometimes to each other, but either way the sound helped to keep her anchored in this safe environment. Helped to keep her from slipping into the clutches of her nightmarish memories that were lurking at the shadowy edges of her foggy mind.

At some point, Janet reappeared at her side and Sam forced herself to focus on her friend's face and words.

"How's the pain?" Janet asked her.

Sam closed her eyes momentarily. "Throbbing."

Did she say that out loud? She wasn't sure.

"I'll get you something more," Janet said.

_Must have been out loud_, Sam thought groggily.

Janet disappeared from sight, reappearing a moment later to inject something into Sam's IV.

Soon, Sam felt the pain in her arm and feet begin to ease. But along with the relief came a further increase in drowsiness. The luring fog of oncoming sleep began to creep over her, thick and heavy. Sam struggled against it, not wanting to give in. She wanted to keep the awareness of her friends by her side, giving her strength and support just by being there with her. She wanted the familiarity of their presence. She _needed _it. But the combination of the pain killers and her exhaustion was becoming too much for her. Against her will, her eyes closed.

Turning her head on the pillow, Sam tried to force them open again. She tried, but it wasn't working. As her brow furrowed with the effort, she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and Janet's voice reached her through the fog of drowsiness.

"Relax, Sam. Don't fight it."

And as soon as the words were spoken, sleep won out and pulled Sam into a deep and dreamless slumber.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

After twenty-four hours of near-solid sleep, Sam was finally feeling somewhat alert and even a little bored. And more than causing her frustration, boredom felt dangerous to Sam. Without anything specific to focus on, her mind kept straying to unpleasant thoughts. It kept threatening to replay the worst of her recent memories over and over again in her head.

Propped up against her pillows, Sam fidgeted with the edge of her blanket and looked around the quiet infirmary. She considered asking Janet to let her pay a visit to her lab, but in the end she decided not to bother. She knew the doctor would just say no, and if she were honest, Sam really didn't feel up to moving very far anyhow.

Maybe she could convince Daniel to sneak her laptop into the infirmary. Now that was an idea with definite possibility. Or it would be if Daniel were anywhere around. Sam hadn't seen him for hours and had no clue as to when he might return. If he was buried in one of his translations, it could be ages.

As Sam let out a sigh of frustration, a slight movement off to her right caught her attention. Turning, she saw Colonel O'Neill poke his head into the infirmary, checking to make sure the coast was clear before quickly making his way over to Sam's bed, his hands behind his back. She sat up as he reached her side.

"You're not here to spring me, are you, sir?" she asked hopefully. A high-speed wheelchair trip through the halls of the SGC might not put them in General Hammond's good books, but it would definitely be fun.

But apparently not destined to happen.

"Sorry, Carter, no can do. I wouldn't want to risk the wrath of the Napol --" He quickly cut himself off as the click-click of Janet's shoes reached their ears, growing steadily louder.

As Janet came into view, making her way across the infirmary, the Colonel quickly fixed a look of complete innocence on his face. "Hey, Doc!" he greeted, flashing her a lopsided grin and all the while keeping his hands firmly behind his back and out of her line of sight.

"Colonel," Janet returned suspiciously, pausing at the foot of Sam's bed. "I hope you're not here to disturb my patient. She needs rest."

"That's exactly what I was about to tell her," Colonel O'Neill agreed, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

Sam had to bite her lip to keep herself from grinning.

"I'm sure," Janet said dryly. "Don't keep her awake too long." Casting one last suspicious glance in their direction, the doctor continued on her way across the infirmary.

"You came here to tell me I needed rest, sir?" Sam asked skeptically, not believing it for a moment.

"Well, maybe not just rest. Maybe something more along the lines of rest and... cake."

"Cake?"

"Yes, Major. Cake." And with that, he finally revealed what he was hiding behind his back.

A plate with a piece of cake sitting on it. A piece of fluffy white cake. With icing. Lots of icing.

Sam's mouth began to water for the first time in days.

The Colonel set the plate on her tray and swung it out in front of her. Then he held out a fork. Sam accepted it eagerly and slid the plate closer. As the Colonel pulled up a chair and sat down, she took a fork full of cake and slipped it into her mouth.

_Oh. My. God._

This had to be the best cake she'd ever tasted. She closed her eyes as the icing began to melt on her tongue.

_Bliss._

_Pure bliss._

She opened her eyes again to find Colonel O'Neill watching her with a hopeful expression. She swallowed, and this time was unable to prevent a grin from spreading across her face. "You didn't by any chance bring another fork, did you, sir?"

His face lit up. "Funny you should ask," he said, digging a hand into the pocket of his BDUs. "Because I just happen to have another one right here." He produced the second fork with a flourish.

Sam's grin was full-fledged now as she nudged the plate closer to him. "Dig in, sir."

He grinned back at her and wasted no time sinking his fork into the fluffy dessert. Sam took another fork full of her own, and they set about devouring the cake in companionable silence. As they worked their way through the delicious dessert, Sam found herself savouring both the taste and the company. Her spirits were suddenly much higher than they had been only a few moments earlier. Much, much higher.

Maybe she still had healing to do. And maybe she was going to have to deal with some not-so-pleasant things over the coming days -- like talking with the police and dealing with her memories -- but at the moment Sam didn't care. She really didn't. Because at the moment, everything was just fine.

The End.

* * *

_A/N: So you made it this far, huh?_ ; )_ Thanks for reading! In case anyone is interested, a sequel to this story is in progress. So if you want to know how Sam's dealing with things after she's released from the infirmary or whether or not Jack sees the pictures taken by the psycho... or if you just want a good dose of Sam angst followed by some Jack/Sam comfort, then I hope you'll keep an eye out for the sequel. I'm struggling with it a bit at the moment but I'm hoping to have the first part up within the next couple of weeks. Not entirely sure what the title will be but it's likely to be the next story that I post. Once again, thanks for reading this story... I hope you enjoyed it!_

_Gwil_


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